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Rigela
 
PostPosted: Thu, Jan 21 2016, 17:58 PM 

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Joined: 16 Sep 2010
Location: Grimy Old England

The magical lamps of Amia. Curious inventions, regularly used by adventuring folk to move around the isle and once a means to access the fabled bardic retreat of the realms. Much of their glory had been lost when such fable fell into ruin and decline, but tales yet remained in the minds of many of what once was.

This day however, those using them might notice something peculiar about them. For an hour in the morn and eve, matching the rise and setting of the sun, a strange sound could be heard emanating from them. A disconcerting sound that seemed almost incomplete somehow.

What this might mean, seemed undetermined for now.

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Lutra
 
PostPosted: Thu, Jan 21 2016, 20:25 PM 



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Joined: 13 Feb 2008

A certain bard in black can be seen walking around the lamps and when he stops in Cordor, he leaves a letter in the city hall, muttering something about the bureaucracy.

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Grymia
 
PostPosted: Thu, Jan 21 2016, 20:26 PM 

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Joined: 14 Dec 2004
Location: Kohlingen, and a Basement in Canada

Heading to the Green Lantern just outside Kohlingen, the Gnomish Magician known as Tuomas Valo would listen to the lantern curiously, closing his eyes to try to place the noise.

~.. Time to check the others.. that break might be on hiatus it seems. ~


 
      
Lutra
 
PostPosted: Thu, Jan 21 2016, 22:55 PM 



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Joined: 13 Feb 2008

After checking some of the lanterns with a gnome, and elven noble, later joined by another mysterious individual, the black bard begins to send out missives.

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Aiseth
 
PostPosted: Thu, Jan 21 2016, 23:29 PM 

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Joined: 21 Dec 2011

Far in Endir's Point, the black magician inspects the strange sound coming from the lantern there. She studies it a moment with reserved thoughts then returns to the docks.

Later she returns with a blue lens and casts a spell; staring through the sapphire lens to study the lantern better.

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MuseReader: Aiseth Nosdivan- Master EnchantressImage


 
      
CrazyCatLady
 
PostPosted: Thu, Jan 21 2016, 23:48 PM 

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Joined: 19 Nov 2014

After receiving some personal correspondence, a certain bardess scowls briefly before heading off to Khem where she studies the lamp there.

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Last edited by CrazyCatLady on Fri, Jan 22 2016, 0:48 AM, edited 1 time in total.

 
      
walnutboy
 
PostPosted: Fri, Jan 22 2016, 0:37 AM 

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Joined: 22 Jul 2015
Location: Lincolnshire, United Kingdom

During one of her many wanderings round the Isle the human ranger would find her way up the coast and as the sun dipped low she eventually reached Wharftown. Unusually her companions attention was drawn by something in town, following him to the lantern she peered curiously as the item she had used several times before echoed its noise, the badger clearly irritated. The hand she had started to extend towards the device paused as she mused its meaning, stepping back under the tree she stood to observe anything and anyone which might appear.

Come the rising of the sun she was still there and listened curiously once more.

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CrazyCatLady
 
PostPosted: Fri, Jan 22 2016, 1:29 AM 

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Joined: 19 Nov 2014

Sunset finds the bardess stationed in front of the Khem lantern, quill and journal in hand. She stays there for some time, even after the sun has sunk its life giving brilliance behind the sand dunes that cover the landscape. Finally, enveloped in night's dark embrace, she heads home, having not spoken a word the entire time.

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The1Kobra
 
PostPosted: Fri, Jan 22 2016, 2:58 AM 

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Joined: 12 Oct 2009

Kurchin spends much of his time obsessively inspecting the sounds, and the lamps, particularly the central device. An obsessed, but worried look to him, while still polite with any that address him, his focus remains upon the devices. He constantly looks at them through one of two lenses during his examinations.

So this... is it what I've always thought it would come to...?

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Anatida
 
PostPosted: Sat, Jan 23 2016, 8:51 AM 

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Joined: 09 Sep 2011
Location: Texas Y'all

After receiving a letter, a certain regal bardess in a long red and black gown turned up in Kohlingen looking for Glendil. Afterward, she returned to her former rooms at the Temple of Love. At sunrise and sunset she was stationed at the red lamp. She learned the music the lamp played in the morning, and using her preferred insturment, she sang the song back to the lamp in the evening. When the lamp was not playing she would work to write down which parts of the magical song she recognized, and which order they seemed to be played in... as though she thought it might be a puzzle.

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PassionateShadow
 
PostPosted: Sat, Jan 23 2016, 9:09 AM 

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Joined: 07 Jun 2014

A letter from the Stu would be given to Glendil concerning the lamps.

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❤ Amia is Fun Again! ❤
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"It's easy to feel like a hero. It's a little harder to be one."


 
      
Rigela
 
PostPosted: Sun, Jan 24 2016, 3:23 AM 

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Joined: 16 Sep 2010
Location: Grimy Old England

Those who recorded parts of the song down would note that it was almost as if they were only getting part of a song - perhaps a stretch of notes was missing, or several chords. It was strange indeed! Those who employed other means of magic to study it would notice it was strangely active - as if it was trying to tear itself apart and remain as it was at the same time.


More recent studies would show a new turn of events however from all the lamps now...

Instead of the strange patches of songs, something wholly complete would greet them. A song unlike any other they may have heard before. It drifted and changed from one song to another. Flowing from old to new, again and again, seemingly without any end. Enchanting, it felt as if one could simply listen to it for hours on end without a care in the world. Those using the lanterns may feel a strange tingling when they went through the portals, but otherwise everything seemed as it should be. But would that be any comfort to the paranoid?

Outside of the room that held the 'Central' lantern in Cordor, a guard would warn people that they used the lamp at their own discretion.

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Signature by Maryn! <3 I am also seen as DM Snuffles.


 
      
CrazyCatLady
 
PostPosted: Sun, Jan 24 2016, 5:14 AM 

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Joined: 19 Nov 2014

Rania, having jotted down the previous heard at the Khem lantern, would return at sunset this day though this time she would have drank a mind blank potion first as a safety precaution for some reason. Once again, she diligently notates every detail of the song/songs she hears, before heading back out into the desert again.

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Estara
 
PostPosted: Wed, Jan 27 2016, 22:47 PM 

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Joined: 24 Feb 2007

Caron, considered by some to be one of the most fabulous bards of the current era, flounced about the isles talking about the music from the portal lamps. He seemed to find it fascinating! Interesting! Intriguing! Theoretically challenging! All manner of things, most of which he really did not hide. If people cared to ask him about it, he'd tell daring stories of epic proportions... Vodaks and adventurers... The essence of Gods and fey and a beautiful starry stage... rakshasa and bardic treasures and lore unimaginable, with countless tomes reportedly destroyed in a great fire! The horror! He seemed happy to share all the rumors and tales from a time and place that has since been lost! But- BUT, he exclaimed, it may be recovered! Perhaps with your help?!

Eventually, late in the night, and coming from Winya, the pale bard took the tingling travel from the falls to that fated Cordor building, where a gazebo with the central portal lamp resided. He had a lute and a guitar slung about him, both held by shimmering straps of sylvan design. The lute seemed to have symbols flowing across it, greens and golds and browns of all shapes displaying sylvan runes and magical scenes of nature. It was unclear what it was made of! The guitar was the opposite. A deep, dark ebony that shone with a wooden polish and was strung with what looked to be gut. Both were clearly magical, and beyond that, Caron clearly cared for them very much.

The bard decided to settle himself down in the corner of the gazebo, nodding to the guards with a charming smile. He let his instruments sit comfortably in his lap, and he closed his eyes, leaning back. He listened.. and seemed to lose himself into the song, not having a care in the world! Perhaps it was purposeful and he knew what he did. Perhaps he simply loved music that much, that he would sit down and listen for hours and hours on end without eating, nor drinking, nor sleeping. Perhaps it counted as a kind of rest for the curiously strange bard, to sit back and listen and lose himself. It was unclear to the naked eye, at least. But he seemed to mutter. He muttered odd words, in a variety of languages, perhaps showing how learned of a being he truly was. Sylvan, elven, draconic... to those who listened or knew music, they seemed to be parts of a greater piece. Marks of symphonies, of the great composers of time and the possible themes throughout the ever-changing songs of the lamps.

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He sat there, and sat there, and sat there... and when he wasn't sitting, when he seemed to snap out of his trance, whether to realize something or note something down- he ended up getting himself even more comfortable, if it could be believed! He took off his boots and socks, to dig his toes into the grass and flowers. He bent over to smell them, to look at them. He even seemed to consider plucking a few, but he did not. No. He stood up, instead. Barefoot. He leapt in circles about the lamp, keeping time to the music if it changed, as one might revel in the fey worlds if one were to be experienced in such a thing. He brought his dark eyes close to the lamp when the music changed, watching it. He pressed his ear against the thing, to listen to the vibrations created by the music within it, if there were any. Hopefully, his bones did not turn to jelly!

He took his gloves off and felt the lamp, phallic as it may be. He laughed some, throwing his head back like a man enjoying himself wildly. His eyes seemed to grow wide as he stayed there, hour after hour and growing into days. If the guards requested he leave, he would nod and kindly give them a break for a few hours, only to return and politely request if he may begin his studies again. If he left, it seemed he always went to one place- the Kohlingen lamp. Tingling through the portal, he would sometimes make his way to Mayfields to play a bit of the songs he was learning from the lamp. He would gorge his face while he was there, as well. He would watch people's reactions to whatever he played, of course using his songs to pay for his meals, as any bard, and he took a mental status of how many times he may forget how the themes and melodies went.. but Caron did not try to recreate the song's technicalities. No, it seemed he was recreating the symbols and the feelings and whatever it was he was experiencing.

For him, it seemed, this was not a scientific puzzle. It was a creative one.

Caron never seemed to play either of his beautiful instruments in the presence of the central lamp, nor any of the others, surprisingly enough. He only kept them there, close. Occasionally he would run his hands along them while he listened. Or he might press the sylvan lute up against the lamp, as if it might be imbued with some of the magic- or take in some of the song. If things began to shake, he'd hurriedly jump away! Probably laughing again! Perhaps he thought that nothing was too ridiculous to try, nothing too embarrassing to do. He tried standing in different parts of the room, to see if it mattered how it sounded. He asked the guards, if they would answer- did it make them tingle just to stand nearby? Did they ever notice anything in the air between them and the lap, or the gazebo? Were there any voices?

In the end, whatever he discovered, or not, Caron did not seem inclined to move much or very often. He came back to this little spot in Cordor, to this little spot in the Planes themselves, and seemed to make himself half at home. Though he never sought to bother anyone else. That was, perhaps, the most surprising part of all!

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'Imagination is more important than knowledge." -Albert Einstein


 
      
The1Kobra
 
PostPosted: Thu, Jan 28 2016, 3:23 AM 

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Joined: 12 Oct 2009

Since the change of the songs the lamps play, Kurchin has been more secluded of late. Oft spending time in the shrine of Bahamut, staring at a gem...

If that's what it must be, then perhaps it is best. Perhaps this is what this was meant for all along, to repair damage to a broken heart, I wonder if it is to repair the Triumvir's broken heart as well...

But that resonance, I have to be sure...


Occaisionally he sings a tune, but also seems to be in deep contemplation much of the time...

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Rigela
 
PostPosted: Sat, Feb 06 2016, 19:44 PM 

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Joined: 16 Sep 2010
Location: Grimy Old England

Strange occurrences would begin to crop up around the lamps now. Rarely, if ever, did they seem to function. A lens slotted in would produce only a soft hue of said colour lens and soothing song. Those who lingered near them for too long would find themselves displaced away oddly, often to dangerous positions.

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Signature by Maryn! <3 I am also seen as DM Snuffles.


 
      
Blue Moon
 
PostPosted: Tue, Feb 09 2016, 6:51 AM 

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Joined: 11 Oct 2012
Location: Florida

*Earlier in the week, having heard news of the lamps from someone, which she admittedly seldom uses herself, Jovianne would casually but carefully study the oddities from afar in the Kohlingen lamp. Deliberately after, she'd travel straight to the Hin Inn and up the second floor to stare there at the old painting of the Triumvur, blonde head tilted, a finger on her lips in thought...*

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Jovianne Undon
Devout of The Healer
"[SocksOnFeet] Arabella Amakiir: [Talk] That girl got buns, hon. "

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